Ghoulish Night
by SoulSearcher768
Summary: Dean and Sam find themselves fighting a group of ghouls.


Dean turned slowly on the spot, listening for any hint that the ghoul was close by. His hand tightened around the machete he was holding, his reflexes on edge as silence fell upon his ears. One fight with the ghoul had already slowed him down a bit, but a scratch to his side wasn't going to stop him. It just pissed him off and made him want to take the damn thing's head off even more.

The soft sound of a foot moving against concrete turned his attention to the left. He hesitated too long and the ghoul leapt out at him. Dean barely dove out of the way, turning to face his foe when he was at a safe distance. He was shocked to find himself looking at a completely different ghoul than the one he'd fought with before.

"Shit," he muttered, and glanced at the door Sam should have come through by now. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure the second ghoul wasn't behind him, then backed up so he could get a full view of the basement. Ghoul number two was slowly following his lead, but the first was no where in sight. He groaned deep in his throat and narrowed his eyes at the ugly bastard that was stalking him. He was a little shorter than Dean, but had some weight on him that he suspected had less to do with the person the ghoul was impersonating, and more to do with the number of people it had consumed in the last couple weeks.

A rush of air was his only warning that the other ghoul was close. He turned slightly, but was knocked roughly to the ground before he had a chance to even see the ghoul coming at him. His grip on the machete slipped and he heard it skitter across the concrete floor. The ghoul bit into his arm and he let out a yell that was a mix of pain and anger. He swung the arm that wasn't being used as a chew toy and knocked the ghoul upside the head. That stunned it enough for it to let go. He scrambled out from under it and away just as the second ghoul leapt to where he had just been.

"You assholes just don't give up, do you?" He asked, stalling for time.

"Not when something so tasty as a Hunter makes its way into our home," the first ghoul said. It was larger than the second, both in width and height. No wonder it had hurt so much when it had knocked him to the floor.

Dean carefully climbed to his feet, holding his wounded arm close to his body. His eyes quickly found the machete, but the larger ghoul was watching him like a hawk. The bastard had tasted his blood now, and it wasn't going to stop until it had all of it. Or, at least, that was what the ghoul thought.

"Well, I hate to break it to ya, but you've had all you're gunna get of my delicious blood." he taunted, then gritting his teeth against the pain, Dean dove to the ground and rolled to his machete as the two ghouls attacked in unison. He rolled back to his feet, gripping his machete with one hand while blood dripped down the other. The ghouls turned and snarled at him; he snarled right back.

"Dean!" Sam ran through the door, drawing the ghouls' attention. Was it some kind of stupid radar Sam had that always had him coming into a fight far too late? Whatever the cause, Sam was there and the ghouls were distracted. He didn't waste the opportunity given to him; with a yell and a swing of his blade, Dean took the larger ghoul's head clean off. The second one started towards Sam, but Dean jumped over the body of its buddy and knocked it to the ground. It wasn't long before head and body parted ways.

"What took you so damn long," he grumbled as he finally forced himself back to his feet. He turned and looked at Sam, who was covered in blood splatters. He scowled. "Are you all right?" he added.

"Yeah," Sam nodded and glanced over his appearance. "In better shape than you. Let's get out of here."

Dean grunted his agreement, clutching his throbbing arm to his side. "You didn't answer the first question."

"Ran into another one on my way." Sam said. Dean heard the concern in his brother's tone. "That makes four of them in one town. Dean, that's not even close to usual for these guys."

"Nothing is usual these days." Dean snapped then winced at the wounded look that crossed Sammy's face. "Let's get back to the motel and clean up."

Getting sewed up by Sam was never a pleasant experience. Enough whiskey made it bearable, but the throbbing ache of the needle going through his flesh and tugging the two pieces together with string was always uncomfortable... to say the least. Once Sam finished his doctoring, Dean had himself about half a bottle of that delicious, mind numbing amber liquid before he allowed himself time to think about what had happened that night.

He and Sam faced one ghoul upon entering the old house. Sam had gone to find the missing girl, while Dean had followed the second ghoul they'd spotted down to the basement. The total of four ghouls in one area was disconcerting, though not as far fetched as Sam had made it out to be. He flipped the page in Dad's journal, scanning the notes on ghouls. Families were known to stay together; he already knew that much. But most families of ghouls didn't total more than three. He supposed it could have been a fluke... but how often did those actually come about in his life?

"So you wanna tell me what happened?" he asked the silence. Sam looked up from his laptop, brow creasing into that disturbed look he often got when thinking about something he never wanted to see again.

"Dean she was..." he shook his head. "You'd think after this long I'd be over it."

"They never get easier, Sammy." Dean emptied his glass and set it down. "You just learn to numb yourself against them."

"With alcohol?" Disapproval filled Sam's tone and Dean smirked.

"Among other things." He looked away from the journal and met Sam's gaze. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he gave a short nod, but wouldn't meet Dean's eyes. "Just..."

Dean sighed and shut the journal. "They were probably a family." He said with more confidence than he felt. "You know they'll stay in family groups. This was just a larger one than usual."

"Do you honestly believe that, Dean?" Doubt filled Sam's expression.

He nodded. "'Course I do." He eyed Sam closely. "It's nothing to worry about, Sammy."

"I'm not thinking about the ghouls." Sam admitted. Dean nodded his understanding and stood with his glass. He felt Sam's eyes on him as he walked to where the bottle of whiskey sat and poured himself another glass. He picked up the second glass and filled it too, then walked back to the table. He set one glass in front of Sam before he sat back in his chair. Their eyes met and an understanding passed between them. Sam smiled his thanks and took a sip of the alcohol.

Dean winced from the pain in his side as he slid down in his chair a bit, pushing it back onto two legs. He watched Sam silently for a few minutes, then sighed."All right, where to next?"


End file.
